


Finding a Path

by ilyena_sylph



Category: Night World - L. J. Smith
Genre: Other
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-05
Updated: 2014-12-05
Packaged: 2018-02-28 06:32:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 11,842
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2722229
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ilyena_sylph/pseuds/ilyena_sylph
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Circle Daybreak is the only place for a reformed vampire-hunter and her vampire soulmate... but how does that actually go?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Finding a Path

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Sixthlight](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sixthlight/gifts).



Rashel hadn't expected to overtake the power boats before they reached the harbor, though she realized that she should have at about the same point that she realized what the blinking lights in the water ahead of them were. The boats the girls were on, of course. With eleven girls in each boat, they had a heavier burden than the yacht, and it also seemed to have power to spare. 

"John?" she asked, soft, and it took a moment for him to look at her, to respond to his first name instead of his last, "do you know anything about the radios on these boats? Can they talk to each other?" 

He blinked at her for a moment, thoughtful, and then he shrugged one shoulder a little. "I'm not sure. I've never been on this yacht before, and the other boats, well, if we needed to talk to each other we used telepathy. Lily's a strong telepath and so am I." 

"I noticed that," Rashel said, but she squeezed his fingers as she leaned in a little closer to him. It was all right. She wasn't angry with him any more, not now that she understood why he'd hated humans so much, treated them as such vermin. She probably should be, but... she didn't know how to be angry with him right now. Any more than he knew how to be angry with her for all of the vampires she'd killed when she was Rashel the Cat, not Rashel Jordan, soon-to-be (well, hopefully) damned Daybreaker. "I guess I'd better see if I can figure it out -- one of my teachers used shortwave sometimes -- and try to talk to them." 

"I could always -- " 

"Not a good idea, Quinn," Rashel replied, shaking her head at his half-finished offer. "I don't think even Fayth would be happy with that. And Daphne would fight you."

He tipped his head at her a little, looking at her in the low light. ""Even Fayth"?" 

"One of the girls. She's a dam -- " She'd better stop using that before she got around a bunch of them. Especially if she was going to be one. "She's from Circle Daybreak." 

"What was a _Daybreaker_ doing in that kind of a place?!" 

"They'd heard about the bloodfeast," Rashel answered him, looking at his dark eyes. Dark and suddenly very displeased eyes, "She was checking out the area, the same as we hunters were, but she got nabbed before she could report back." 'We' hunters? That wasn't true now. She wasn't like the Lancers anymore, she was... something, someone, different now. "She knew more than they did, though." 

He didn't comment on her shift from 'we' to 'they', but his arm tightened around her a little before he eased up, letting her get up if she wanted to. She didn't want to, but watching their yacht eat up the distance to the boats in front of them, she thought she had to. What he did say, thoughtfully, was "That's... strange, and disturbing. That the do-gooders," he made a face, as if realizing that he was (if they would have them) going to be one of those very do-gooders now, "knew details, when we were careful..." 

"Maybe one of the made vampires couldn't resist talking about the party he was invited to?" Rashel offered, but she wasn't sure she believed it, and then she held a hand up. "Wait, we can see about that later. I've got to try to get in touch with them." 

She tried, flicking the radio's dials in different patterns. She got cursed at twice, once in what she thought was Cambodian and once in incredibly vulgar Spanish, and finally she gave up with a snarl, nearly kicking the cabinet the radio was built into. 

"I could still try for one of them," Quinn said, coming up behind her and rubbing at her shoulders -- careful of the burns across her back, so very careful that it made her heart swell up in her chest like she was the Grinch in that old movie -- gently. "I know some of their minds. What do you want me to tell them?" 

"...tell her, whichever one you get, to have Anne-lise try and contact us? She knows boats real well. Then I want to talk to Fayth." 

Maybe, if they were lucky, the girls hadn't already contacted the Coast Guard, and they could come up with a better plan than the frantic thing she'd sent them back towards shore with. Timmy and Nyala both definitely needed Circle Daybreak, but... the more she thought, the more she was pretty sure that all of the girls did, or would for a little while, at least. 

Most of the foster families she'd been placed with, especially the ones that weren't hunters, had tried to get her into therapy. They'd wanted the doctors to fix her, to bring the scared, tiny, helpless child she never wanted to be again back out, to have her no longer talk about the vampire that had eaten her little brother. They'd cared about her, but they'd wanted her to be normal, and the psychs had tried. 

Those girls they'd rescued didn't need to deal with that. They didn't need years of doctors trying to treat 'hallucinations' that were real. Or, worse, to have the bad luck that the doctor they told the truth to was a Night Person in hiding, and to die for knowing the secret. No. They shouldn't have to risk that, or have to live with lying to their families for the rest of their lives. 

Quinn's gaze went distant, his body language remote, and she knew he was in a conversation with one of the girls maybe a half-mile (did they use miles on the sea? She wasn't sure) ahead of them. His mouth quirked a few times, and then he gave her instructions on how to mess with the radio. Not long after that, Fayth's voice was crackling out of the handset she held. 

"Hello?" her voice was wary, and Rashel tightened her hand around the radio as she laughed. To hear the Daybreaker wary _now_ , when the worst of it was over, struck her as far, far too funny. 

"Hey," she answered, "it's me. I'm alright." 

"Rashel! Oh, Rashel, it's so good to hear your voice. I -- Rashel we -- we lost Nyala, I thought she was right there _with_ me and then she was gone and I --" 

Rashel depressed the handset's button as soon as Faith let go of the channel. "It's okay, Fayth. She saved me, she saved us both. I've got her."

"...oh, thank You, Mother," Fayth answered, and Rashel thought she could almost hear tears in the Daybreaker's voice. "I -- I'm so glad."

"Me too," Rashel agreed. She was, she really was. Without Nyala, she and Quinn would both be dead. "So I've been thinking, since we escaped. It might be better if the girls go to your people, at least at first. Or any who want to, anyway. Day People don't really, um, deal well, you know? Do you have anywhere that can house so many people, until they can at least make their own decisions?" 

"I think we can," Fayth answered after long, long moments of silence. "I'll have to get to a phone, though. That means docking somewhere. Annalisa can manage it, but I'm not so sure about Keiko."

They discussed it for a bit longer, with Rashel adding things Quinn knew, and they finally decided to wait out the rest of the night and not approach the coast until dawn, when they would have less trouble navigating to a lesser-used dock, wharf, or port -- whatever the differences between those three words were, anyway -- and then to a pay phone so that Faith could make contact with 'her people'. Rashel added a last, "Tell Daphne I'm okay, I'll see her once the sun comes up, would you?" 

"Of course. Talk to you on land, 'Shel." 

It wasn't Shelley, but it wasn't Rashel, either. Rashel wasn't sure what she thought of the nickname, but it... it might do, actually. 

The two powerboats idled, one off to either side of the yacht, and Rashel wished her eyes were better, that they had more light, so that she could see Daphne and Daphne could see her. Quinn was her soulmate, her perfect complement... but Daphne was her friend. The first friend she'd had -- she'd let herself have -- since Timmy. It had torn something apart in Daphne, she knew, to leave her behind on that island with so many vampires, and she wanted to ease that, to make it as much better as she could. 

But it was dark, and she didn't have vampire senses, so she simply tucked herself back in against Quinn's chest, laying her head on his shoulder. It was going to be a long few hours -- but not nearly as long as the previous day had been. Except for the way the hours piling and piling onto each other made every one that passed worse. 

"You need rest," Quinn said against her hair, "you smell exhausted." 

"I 'smell' exhausted?" She wanted to be incredulous, wanted to be insulted, but all she really felt was a trace of amusement overtop of her, well, her exhaustion. 

"Yes. You should sleep -- only until dawn," her face must have had quite the expression on it, for him to amend his own words that quickly, "and I'll watch back behind us, just in case."

"I don't know if I can sleep. And no, you are _not_ going to put me to sleep the way you did Nyala and Timmy," she said, before he could get any ideas. She might not be angry anymore, but that didn't mean she wanted him turning his power on her. "I'll lie down, at least," she said at the look on his face, concerned and so obviously unfamiliar with it. "Maybe we'll get lucky and I will sleep." 

The question was, could she sleep without nightmares? When she'd just seen her worst nightmare come back, seen the vampire -- seen _Hunter Redfern_ , she knew his name now -- in front of her again? Heard his mocking, 'I told you I'd see you later' in her mind? 

"I'm here, Rashel," Quinn's voice was low, gentle, and it soothed her. 

She nodded, pressing a little closer for a moment before she went to the nearest of the leather-covered benches and stretched out on her chest, one forearm under her temple so she could breathe a little easier. Closing her eyes, she tried to rest, tried to let go of the world so that sleep might, possibly, find her...

+++ 

Quinn breathed out, not willing to make a noise with it, when Rashel finally fell asleep. She needed it so badly. She needed food more, he could tell she hadn't been willing to touch the drugged food they'd been feeding the girls, but one of the things the vampire books and movies got wrong was flight. As in, he could do that about as well as he could turn into a bat. And he doubted that Hunter -- 

\-- why the hell did he think he knew anything about what Hunter would do? 

He'd obviously been completely wrong about the man. Everything he'd believed about the stern but honorable man he'd loved as an adoptive father was wrong, a lie. A hundred thousand lies over three and a half centuries, hundreds of manipulations that had all served to hide the monster lurking under his golden eyes. 

A monster that had broken most of the Night World laws for vampires. Twelve years ago, he'd made a preschool child into a vampire. Making children into vampires was criminal, because it was so very impossible for them to hide. It wasn't illegal to _be_ a child-vampire, but to make one... that was. In those same nights, he'd let a human child that knew the truth escape him, creating a hunter that had killed probably dozens of their kind. 

Quinn was glad of that one, _oh_ but he was glad of that, that his Rashel, his soulmate, was alive, but that didn't change Hunter's crimes against her. And in the last month, he had used his daughter to re-start the Night World slave trade, used Quinn himself, and brought seven of the most powerful of the made vampires together for a ritual that had been illegal for centuries...

...and the real hell of it was that Quinn couldn't do a _damned thing_ about any of it! 

The Council was too firmly in Hunter's grasp. They would never believe him, and even if they did... he'd helped to kidnap those girls. He was as guilty of the slave trade as Hunter. That thought roiled in his gut, long-unfamiliar feelings roused in him by what Rashel had done in his mind. She'd brought (blown, whispered, kissed) life back into emotions he had firmly locked away, and now actual guilt instead of simple, factual knowledge that he had broken their laws sat like acid inside him. 

There was no way to topple Hunter's power, expose him for what he was under the mask of the stern patriarch, without dying himself. Or, worse yet, without watching Rashel die first. 

No. 

Not that, not ever. 

Rashel stirred on the bench and he took a deep breath, using it to calm himself, steady his mind. So Hunter would live, would continue on whatever path to armageddon he was planning... but he and Rashel would be there to stop him. Because Hunter couldn't turn them in without risking himself. That was the thing that would keep him -- and, more importantly, Rashel -- safe, at least from the Council. 

He nodded to himself, clicking that piece into place in his mind. It wouldn't do anything about Hunter, or Lily, but even Hunter had to know that Quinn would make certain everyone knew about him and what he'd done, what he'd tried to do, if Hunter broadcast that Rashel was human. 

That was for later, though. Right now, he had to figure out how to get twenty unwillingly kidnapped girls, three that had set themselves up to be kidnapped (one a Daybreaker, one Rashel, and one flighty, emotional blonde, Daphne), one Night Child, and one more -- deeply deranged -- kidnap victim off of three separate stolen boats, through at least a section of Boston, and safely into the hands of Daybreaker professionals so that they could be safely re-integrated into the Day World. 

His head already hurt. 

And, just to make matters worse, he had to do it by day, when his powers were almost non-existent. At night, he could 'convince' everyone to look away, to not register the trail of grimy, thin, haunted girls leaving one of the docks. Make them not even notice the boats. 

But the girls at the helms of the two powerboats weren't familiar with the Boston harbor, with its many inlets and channels, the long sprawling miles of wharf and dock. Not familiar enough to try navigating by night, and the last thing any of them needed was for one of the two heavily-loaded powerboats to scrape the bottom, hit something, or be otherwise damaged. Rashel wasn't sure that all of the girls could swim. So it had to be day. 

He hated trusting to Luck. Almost as much as She hated him. 

Nothing to do for it, though. Nothing but wait, watch the sun come up, and then do what he could to help these girls. He'd gotten them -- some of them, anyway -- into this. He had to get them out of it. 

He wanted to lie down next to Rashel, feel her warm weight against his, be able to breathe nothing but her scent through the long hours until dawn, but he'd promised her he'd keep watch, and he was going to. He moved closer to her, brushed his hand through her black hair, gently lifting what had fallen over her cheek away, and went to the open doorway to turn his senses into the night. 

He lifted an acknowledging hand at the flash of light from one of the powerboats, but stayed focused out on the eastern horizon. Or at least, where it should be. So far, so good. Nothing. 

++++ 

Quinn was there in the doorway when Rashel woke up at the feeling of sunlight on her skin, and she made certain that she stepped down heavily before she moved towards him. 

"Good morning," he said, over his shoulder, and she quietly snorted at him. It was morning, she couldn't deny that, but 'good'? Her back hurt like -- well, like she'd been set on fire; she was ridiculously hungry -- going three days or more without food would do that to you; and she wanted more sleep. Why he was calling it good, she had no idea, she thought as she laid her jaw over his other shoulder. 

_Because you're here,_ he answered her, _and I'm sorry you're hurting, but it won't be too much longer now._

His voice in her mind was soft, gentle, infinitely honest, and blazingly loving, and she melted against his back. _Oh, you,_ she said, just as soft as she felt right now. _You're right. Not much longer. Fayth to a phone, then the girls on-shore. And then we get to pray that the da -- the Daybreakers,_ she corrected herself, and she felt his amusement as she did, _know what they're doing._

 _I think you hate -- hated -- them more than I do -- did --,_ Quinn thought at her, but then the conversation was interrupted by the crackle of the radio. Rashel turned and went for it, answering. 

Keiko was ready to try following Anne-lise into the estuary, and they were going to follow. Rashel stood by Quinn, her fingers on the radio's mic, and watched the bow neatly slicing through the gentle waves. 

There were so many boats, and so many people, but Anne-lise managed to keep the three of them decently close together as she navigated up towards one of the northern sections of the city, where the boats looked a little more well-used and the people looked a little more preoccupied. Rashel was fairly certain that they were doing something else illegal when Anne-lise radioed about open slips, but she didn't actually care. 

What she cared about was that they were tied back up to a dock, Fayth had somehow gotten mostly cleaned up and was jogging down the planking, headed for the nearest of the pay-phones, and didn't seem to be having any trouble from the people scattered up and down the other... parking spots. Slips? Whatever. 

She might have to learn to care about boats if the vampire enclaves were on islands, she realized, before she remembered Quinn beside her. She wasn't that Rashel, the hunter, any more. How could she be? 

He wrapped around her, so very careful of her pain, and asked softly, "What is it?" 

"...I was thinking about boats, and enclaves, and then I remembered you." 'Remembered that I can't hate all of you anymore,' she didn't say. "And Timmy." 

_He never should have been turned,_ Quinn said into her mind, soft and still angry. _And... thank you. A lot of the Night People that live on the enclaves... live there because you humans frighten them._

 _I love you,_ she answered, all of her soul answering him, that gratitude that had washed past and over his anger for Timmy. _We'll figure out something. Somehow._

_Yes._

They fell into quiet then, waiting until Fayth came jogging back. She climbed up the ladder at the back of the yacht, and they were both there to meet her by the time her head came above the side-wall. Quinn gave her a hand, and she smiled at him. 

"I got hold of the oldest witch we have in Boston," Fayth reported, "she's going to send a couple of vans to get everyone, and call Thierry -- " 

" _Thierry_?!" 

The question exploded from both of them at once, and Fayth covered her mouth, her eyes sparkling at them, amused and bright in the morning light. "Yes, Thierry. He's our leader. Well, he and one other, but I'm not sure who she is, honestly. No-one will say. I thought people were starting to know that..." 

The first made-vampire. The very first. The one who had been bitten all those millennia ago, _today_. 

He still existed? 

Rashel had thought of him as more of a legend than someone that could be real. That could still live in this world, this modern day. 

"No," Quinn said slowly, softly. "Or at least, I didn't. That... puts rather a different slant on things, doesn't it?" 

Fayth shrugged. "If you say so. Anyway. She's going to call him and get a couple of floors of a hotel reserved for us. That way everyone can shower and get something to eat," Rashel's stomach growled at the same time Fayth's did, and they looked at each other, almost breaking out laughing, "maybe even sleep, before we start getting those girls some help." 

Rashel nodded. That made good sense. But... reserving entire floors of a hotel, at the drop of a phone call? Her head faintly ached from the idea of that much money, that much power. 

"I'm going to go tell everyone," Fayth said, and she climbed back down off the yacht as quick as she'd climbed up. Rashel watched her go, watched her climb up onto one of the powerboats... and two minutes later, Daphne was scrambling down the ladder of hers and racing to the yacht. Her feet skidded on the rails, and Rashel heard her curse once, but then she was up onto the yacht.

Rashel barely got her arms up in time to keep Daphne from crushing her in a hug, and Daphne looked confused, trying again to get to her, "Rashel! I just want to hug you!" 

"I know. Just... careful, okay? I got a little singed." 

"Singed?" Quinn said, incredulous, and she glared at him, while Daphne's eyes went huge and worried, trying to look everywhere at her. Rashel gave up and turned, and Daphne spit more curses, in-between gasping. 

"That is not singed, Rashel Jordan!" her voice was horrified, and Rashel didn't try to look over her shoulder at her. That particular motion hurt. Well, most motions hurt, actually. She tried to play it off, though. 

"No?" 

"No, and you know it! Or if you don't you should!" 

"Nothing to do about it," Rashel answered, though she was still sort of tired, and hungrier than she'd been in a good long while, and hurt. "Not until we're somewhere safe, anyway." 

Daphne snorted at her, stomping a foot in frustrated worry. "You. You and your... _you_!" 

Rashel heard a chuckle and swung around to glare at her soulmate, who was looking deliberately innocent. It didn't work well on him, but it did make her smile. She looked back at Daphne, and carefully pulled her into a hug, Daphne's hands sliding low around her hips to avoid the burns. She grabbed on tight, though, for all of her care in where, and Rashel... Rashel let her. "It's okay, Daphne," she murmured, soft, into Daphne's pale, blonde hair. "It's okay. We're alright. We're okay, we're safe." 'I got you out.' 

"I was so sure we'd lost you," Daphne's words were half a gasp, a wounded noise. "When you -- when we saw the fire, I thought there was no _way_ we could get you back, that -- 

"Shh... shhh," Rashel said, the soothing noise still so unfamiliar, "I know, and I'm sorry I scared you so much. It just... it _had_ to be done, Daphs." 

"Find another way next time! Something, anything! Just -- " 

"I don't want there to _be_ a next time, Daphne." 

"Definitely not," Quinn agreed with her, from off beside them. That brought Daphne's head around, and she let go of Rashel to look at him. 

"You. Don't you _dare_ think I've forgiven you for planning to feed me and Rashel and all these girls to a bunch of made-vampires, don't you _dare!_ It's just that Rashel loves you and you helped her and that means I can't stake you, or -- or cut your head off, or _something!_ " 

His eyes flared wide, shock and something she couldn't tell between fury or concern or just his amusement at her 'tiny piece of blonde fluff' showing her teeth and standing up to him. He looked at her for a little while, the shock bleeding back out, and slowly he said, "Lily's stronger than I am, and I didn't care enough not to. I'm... sorry, for that." 

She heard Daphne's breath catch, and glanced her way. Daphne's eyes were a little round, her face surprised, but she smoothed it over almost too fast to see. Society girl thing, Rashel thought. "...it doesn't make up for it," Daphne said, "but...thank you." 

"You're welcome," he answered, and it wasn't at all sarcastic. 

Two long, deep-blue vans were pulling into the parking lot Rashel could just see over Daphne's head. She couldn't see anything of the drivers, not at this distance. She didn't think even Quinn could, but then one of the drivers got out and headed down towards the start of the dock. Male, young, and even at this distance, beautiful. She looked to Quinn, arching a brow, and he looked that way, too. "Not a vampire," he said after a moment, "male witch, maybe." 

"We can go," Fayth's voice crackled from the radio, and Rashel snorted. "Make that definitely, if Fayth knows at that range. Okay. I'll carry Timmy. I think Nyala's okay enough to come along without any trouble. I'll go talk to her and see." 

"If she's slid back towards hating you," Quinn said, soft, "I'll bring her along. I'd rather not, but..." 

"But you can," Rashel said, though the idea of putting Nyala back under mind control, even her soulmate's, made something in her gut clench. He nodded, and she disappeared down into the stateroom to wake Nyala.

+++ 

Money really was an incredible thing. Especially, she suspected, when amplified by a witch's telepathy. 

The witch driver of the van they were in, Hayden, had parked them near an elevator bank in the hotel's underground parking, gone inside with the other driver (a girl, probably some kind of bird from the look in her eyes), and come back with all of the room keys. He'd handed them out as the girls -- and Quinn -- got out of his van, and when Rashel made her own, careful way out, Timmy temporarily in Quinn's arms, Hayden lifted a hand. "Will you let me help you, please?" 

She stared at him. "What?" 

"Let me help you, please. Your pain is...loud." 

While she was still trying to come up with an answer, Quinn spoke from off to her side. "You're an empath." 

Hayden just nodded, still watching her. Waiting for her to decide. She wasn't sure what the witch could do for her, but it was stupid to turn down offered help. "I...yeah. Please. I can't do much with my back like this." 

He looked relieved, and he smiled at her. "Thank you," he said, and leaned back into the van to grab a battered leather backpack. "Then I'll come up with you." 

She nodded, a little uncertain, and followed them towards where the girls were grouped in a tight knot in front of the elevators. Fayth, unlike everyone else, had a heavy duffel over her shoulder. "Fayth," she asked, drawing all of their attention, "what can and can't we do now?" 

"The rooms are all set up to charge anything we want from the room service menus straight to Circle Daybreak accounts," Fayth answered, "so everybody get something to eat. I'd say order food, then into showers, and then we all get some real sleep." 

"If y'all from Hayden's van'll give me your sizes," the bird-girl said in a soft, carrying voice, "I'll go shopping while you sleep, at least get each of you a clean set of clothes. They probably won't be to your tastes -- " 

"But they'll be _clean_ ," Keiko said, fervent, "I don't _care_ what it is, as long as it's clean!" 

The rest of the girls nodded, even Rashel, and the bird-girl smiled. She had a pocket-notebook in one hand and a pen in the other, and she jotted down quick names and sizes as the girls clustered in. Rashel answered last, and the bird-girl waved at them all before she trotted back towards her van. Then they were in the elevators, seven or eight in each one, ascending rapidly enough that her stomach tried to leave itself in the garage for a long moment. 

Once they stepped out, Rashel eyed the number on the card-sleeve she'd been given and found her room. Quinn, still carrying Timmy, came in with her, and so did Hayden. 

The room was rich but sterile, Rashel saw at a glance, impersonal and interchangeable with most other mid-grade hotels. Hayden's nose wrinkled, his hands brushing down his arms once, as though he was shaking the energy of the room away. Maybe he was. She didn't know very much about the witches, since they were almost impossible to tell from humans until they started working magic. She shifted from foot to foot, watching him curiously as he put his backpack down on the dresser and opened it. He fished inside, and came back out with a bag of gemstones. He shook the open bag against his hand once, twice, and a piece of pale green stone fell into his palm, along with a perfectly clear crystal. Quartz? He nodded to himself and came over to her. 

"If you'll just stand still," Hayden said, softly, "I'll have this fixed in a minute. You might hear me thinking for a second, sorry about that," he added, as if it was natural to hear somebody else in your head. But then again, to some witches it probably was. He started to move and she started to turn with him, keeping her eyes focused on the center of his chest. 

_He needs to be behind you, Rashel,_ Quinn said into her mind, _I'll watch him._

Quinn understood her. He knew why she'd been moving. The relief of that was still glorious, and Quinn laid Timmy down on the far bed, freeing his hands. She stood still, now, and let the witch behind her. Hayden started to hum, something soft, something that turned into a quiet song in a language she didn't know. She could almost feel his hands holding the stones behind her, down low on her back where the worst of the burns started. She felt something soft, cool, and then... warm, starting at the lowest burn and slowly moving upwards. It felt... strange. Very strange, but the pain was leaving, receding. 

She didn't hear him -- not in her head, just the soft singing in her ears -- and she was grateful for that. The wave of cool-then-warm kept climbing her back, up to her shoulders, and then, all at once, she didn't hurt anymore. She'd gotten used to the pain, and now its absence was almost enough to make her cry. He moved out from behind her, to her relief, and the quartz crystal in his hand wasn't clear anymore. It was barely even transparent, there was so much black and rust and crimson in it. "What--" 

"I pulled the burns into this quartz, while the jade helped strengthen your skin and soothe the pain away," he answered, his mouth a little curved in a smile, while he put the stone in her hand. "Keep that safe somewhere, until it goes clear again, or someone else might be able to release the pain back into you. I'm glad you're okay, and that you brought Fayth back out safe. Thanks for that." 

The jade -- she'd thought it might be jade -- went back into his bag of stones, and then he was gone, back out the door. Quinn threw the bolt behind him, and came around to look at her back. 

"It -- it really is all gone," he said, soft, and he laid his fingers carefully on her bare skin. It felt good, so good, to have him touch her and not have there be any pain. She sagged back against him, and his arms wrapped almost crushingly tight around her waist. _You're all right now, you're all right..._

 _Yes,_ she answered him, _I am!_

She was still tired, filthy, and now she was even more ravenous, but... he was with her, and that was almost enough to make her ignore her hunger. 

_Oh no you're not,_ he told her, before he carefully faded the connection between them. "You need food -- I don't get to ignore when I need to feed, neither do you. Sit down, I'll grab the menu." 

"Bossy," she told him, laughing as she did sit down. 

Steak. She wanted a medium-rare steak, a big one, and sauteed mushrooms, and asparagus. And as many dinner rolls as she could get herself around. As soon as she'd placed the order down to the kitchen, she disappeared into the bathroom, shut the door behind her, and stripped off the ruined jumpsuit. It was a ragged, sooty, stained mess, and she was so grateful no-one from the Day World had seen her. She turned on the water, almost as hot as she could stand, threw a towel over the curtain-rod, and lost herself in the hot water for a while. 

They were so close. So close to getting everyone out safely. 

+++ 

It was dark again when a tap at the door woke her, sent her rolling up off the bed and onto her feet. "Yeah?" she called, halfway to the door. 

"It's us," Fayth's voice answered. "Me and Daphne." 

"Okay, just a second," she replied, still grateful that the bird-girl had gotten back before she fell asleep. She found her way to the light-switch and flicked it on, to a quiet growl from Quinn, half-asleep in the room's armchair, then went to un-bar and open the door. 

"Are you better?" Daphne demanded, as soon as she was inside, and when Rashel agreed, Daphne flung herself into hugging her tight, wrapping around her. 

"Hi," she answered, soft and dry, as she hugged Daphne back. "Tell me you slept." 

"Of course I did. As soon as I had food, I was out like a light," she said with a winning smile. She looked wonderful again, her hair washed and dried and pinned back, in a pretty green-and-white sundress. 

"We've talked to the rest of the girls," Fayth said, "and we've got ten that are willing to just have Quinn blank all of their memories so that they can go home now. They don't want to remember, they don't want to know about the Night World, or anything. They just want to go back to normal." 

She couldn't understand that. How could anyone, once she knew the monsters were real, want to forget again? 

That left ten to help. Eleven, with Nyala, but that wasn't optional. "And the others?" 

"Mostly don't want to go back home. Ever. They'd rather go with us." That made perfect sense for a minute, until Rashel realized that it was Daphne that had said 'us', and not Fayth. She stared at her for a moment, blank, then started to shake her head. 

"But, Daphne, your -- " Her parents, her brothers and sisters... 

"No, Rashel. If that -- if Quinn, over there, makes me forget... I'll forget about _you_. And I can't -- you're the first real friend I've had since I was in pre-school." She looked like she was trying to fight tears at the idea, and Rashel reached out to hug her. "First you tried to protect me, and then you believed I could do more than _I_ thought I could, and I'm -- I'm not giving that up. I'm not giving up," she tapped at her chest, "what's in here, now. Even if it means I have to be someone that isn't Daphne Childs anymore." 

"...you're very brave," Quinn said, from the chair, soft, "and we've gotten a lot of experience making new identities, this last fifty years or so." He felt oddly pleased at something, but he just shook his head when she turned enough to look at him, curious. Something he didn't want to share, then. She didn't push. He was her soulmate, her perfect partner, but that didn't entitle her to every stray thought he had. 

Daphne looked like she was still trying to wrap her head around Quinn calling her brave, but she nodded, looking over at him again. "Good. That'll help." 

"And I've, ah... I've talked to Thierry directly," Fayth said, swallowing even before both she and Quinn stared at her. Apparently it was all well and good to talk about the eldest Lord of the Night World as your leader, and another thing entirely to be on the phone with him. "It's going to take a couple of days to move everybody -- he doesn't exactly have a plane big enough to carry all of us -- but he wants to bring everyone to Las Vegas, where he lives. Where he knows enough people that can help." 

_Vegas?_ she asked Quinn, a little incredulous. The first of the made-vampires, the original, lived in **Las Vegas**?

 _He holds a huge Solstice party every year,_ Quinn answered, _or at least, he has since he woke up again. That was... probably about the time you were born, actually._

_Shut up._

" -- hel, Rashel?" Daphne looked worried, and Rashel blinked at her. "Yeah?"

"You totally spaced out on us, Rashel. Are you sure you're okay?" 

"I'm fine. I was just talking to Quinn." So apparently she was going to need more practice before she could keep track of an aloud-conversation and a telepathic one.

"Talking to -- never mind, never mind," Daphne said, waving one hand. "Okay. But you're okay, and now you know what's going on. Oh, right. Keiko wants to go home, but Anne-lise doesn't." Then she paused for a moment, her eyes thoughtful. "Or, I guess, you know what we _want_ to have going on. Quinn, are you...?"

Yeah, Rashel wondered along with her. How did you ask someone if they were willing to make that many girls forget entire weeks of their lives? She wasn't sure there was a good way to ask that question. That they were going to lose Keiko, that all too soon if she saw that brave little girl again, Keiko wouldn't know her, wouldn't smile to see her -- that stung, but at the same time it was better. Of course it was better. Keiko was only thirteen, and she still had parents, somewhere around here. 

"It's not a problem," Quinn said from the chair. "Nothing I haven't done before, and it's upholding Night World law. I'll start at sundown. Though if someone can find me a map of the local police stations, that would help. That way they can get home to their families more quickly." 

"I'll see what I can turn up between now and then," Fayth agreed, nodding once, before she turned to slip out the door again. 

Daphne gave Quinn one more long look, and Rashel another tight hug, before she followed Fayth back out. 

+++

Before Quinn had left, Rashel had asked him to wake Timmy. She'd been hoping he would be calmer, or at least less violent, so that they could try and talk again. So that she could try to explain what she was thinking, that there might be help for him with Circle Daybreak... but hope didn't make anything real. He'd started to scream again, four-year-old tones with the volume of vampiric lungs, and Quinn had had to put him right back out again. 

He didn't come back to the hotel until almost dawn, and the bird-girl came with him, slipping into the room carefully. Her eyes flicked over the room, over Rashel, and then her mouth tightened as she looked at Timmy's tiny form in the bed. She looked like she couldn't quite tell if she wanted to be angry or disgusted, her gold-sheened eyes narrowing, and she looked at Quinn. "This is... I thought, when I saw him yesterday, that he was a _human_ child, not -- not a vampire. Who would _do_ such a thing? It's -- this poor child..." 

Rashel bit her tongue on the answer as Quinn flashed warning at her. Not a word, just the _impression_ of 'don't' -- she hadn't known they could do that -- and spoke. "It doesn't really matter, does it? He's here now. I don't know when the last time he fed was, but..." 

"But it was probably too long ago, and that can't be helping him," she said as she padded closer to Timmy's bed. "If I have a vein open a little before you let him wake up, he should latch on quick, instead of screaming." 

"Wait," Rashel heard herself say, "I don't even know your name, and you're --" There was nausea in her throat, her chest, at what the bird-girl was going to do. Just... open a vein, and let a vampi -- let _Timmy_ \-- drink her blood, like it was nothing at all. 

"What?" the bird-girl turned her head, such an avian gesture that it almost made Rashel smile, and then she nodded a little. "That's right, you were in the other van. I'm Aquila. My parents weren't exactly inventive." Her smile said it was a joke, and Quinn snorted, but Rashel didn't get why it was funny. "It's not the first time I've fed a vampire, and I heal a lot faster than a witch does." She looked between her and Timmy, and asked, "Is he your brother? You don't smell anything alike, but you care about him." 

Rashel shook her head. "He was my best friend, when we were -- well. When I was five and he was four. I was supposed to be watching out for him when --" Hunter Redfern "-- when the vampire mind-controlled him away. I couldn't save him then, but I can try now."

Aquila studied her face for a moment, though Rashel didn't know what she was looking for, and then she sat down next to Timmy and pulled a slim little knife out of a pocket. She laid it against her wrist, making a small, neat slice over a vein in her wrist. The blood welled up, and Timmy's eyes snapped open a few moments later. She could see the backlit shine of them in the moment before he pounced, animal-like spring that sank his teeth into Aquila's wrist. Her back arched and her face drew tight, but she didn't make a sound. 

She wouldn't have been able to be that quiet when a vampire bit her, Rashel was almost certain. She knew she wouldn't have had the strength to endure as long as Aquila did, or, when she decided she was done, to use her free hand to force his jaws open, off her wrist. The wound -- not neat anymore -- started healing, and Timmy snarled with his fangs bared and his eyes wild, trying to get back to her wrist. That was when Quinn moved, grabbed him by both shoulders and hauled him back to the end of the bed. 

"Stop it," Quinn said, so calm. "Aren't you getting tired of me putting you to sleep? She's fed you more than enough. Now have some manners and say 'thank you'." 

Timmy growled at him, struggling against his grip, but he didn't scream. Aquila had her hand wrapped around her cut, bitten wrist, and she looked down the bed at Timmy, waiting patient as a hawk. 

"Thank you," he finally managed, little-boy voice still somehow sounding angry and frustrated. "And yes, I'm tired of it, I'm tired of _you_ , I want to **go home!** "

At least it wasn't a full-voiced scream, just a raised-voice snap. Rashel still winced from it, and moved to crouch next to him. "Timmy," she said, soft, and his eyes came to her. He blinked, surprised. "Rashel?"

"Yeah," she nodded, "it's me. I -- do you really want to go away?" 

His face scrunched up, like he was confused, but that was better than the angry. Or the screaming. "I -- why do you -- No-one but Hunter wants me." 

"I want you," she told him, firm as she could make her voice. "I want to take care of you. I missed you, I've missed you for so long..." 

"But I'm -- " 

"You're _Timmy_ ," she told him, shaking her head. "You're Timmy, and I want you. If there's any way to _help_ you, I want to find it, but even if there's not... you were my best friend. I'd like to have that back, if you're willing..." 

"What could help me?" Timmy asked, the backlit gleam of his eyes starting to fade out with his confusion. "I mean. Made-vampires stay the way they are, forever." 

Aquila half-nodded, half shook her head, and Quinn shrugged his shoulders, while Rashel shifted her weight for a moment. She didn't want to lie to him, and it was only a dream, but it was a hope. "Maybe some of the witches. I don't know. If anyone would know, it's the man we're going to go to, Timmy. And... even if there's not, I still want you. I won't give up on you." 

"I -- I don't -- " He stammered on the words, and then he was in her arms, shoved painfully tight against her chest, crying. She stood up so that she could rock him, her hand at the back of his neck and her arm under his butt. His legs wrapped around her waist, and she just rocked for a little while, petting his hair. He finally sobbed his way into quiet, and his whisper of, "I'll be good," was so thin that hearing it felt like her heart was being pulled out of her chest. "I won't scream anymore. And I don't -- I don't hate you." 

"I'm glad," she said, soft, still rocking him a little. "We're going to go to Las Vegas. I know he," she couldn't help the way she growled the word, "said you'd been living there, do you know a lot of people there?" 

"Some," he nodded, "but mostly other made vampires. Young ones, like me -- mostly. A couple of witches. But none of them know who made me, I wasn't supposed to say. Who're we going to?" 

Because of course the great and pious Hunter Redfern couldn't possibly have done something so horrible. He couldn't have _that_ be known. Her mouth tightened with hate, and she held him a little tighter. "Okay. And we're going to Thierry Descouedres."

For a moment he looked like what she'd said wasn't English, and then he shook his head. "But we can't. He's an Elder, he's _the_ Elder, I've been to his house, at his parties -- just these last two years or so, but -- he's an _Elder_. Don't you know anything at all?" 

She hadn't expected that, hadn't expected him to be the one that knew where they were going. "He's also the leader of Circle Daybreak." 

"What?!" he shook his head, looking completely shocked. "That can't -- but he's --" 

Aquila spoke up, soft and gentle. "He is, Timmy. He's the leader of Circle Daybreak. We all answer to him." 

"But -- but Circle Daybreak is _mad_ , they're wicked, they -- " He looked like he wanted to have hysterics, or start crying, or maybe hit her. 

"You're talking about me, you know," Aquila said, and the corners of her mouth quirked as Timmy spluttered at her, still looking torn about what to do. Rashel hid her own amusement with the ease of practiced calm, watching the two of them. 

"It -- how can he be..." he took a breath, obviously making himself calm down. "Well. They do call him 'Saint Thierry', I guess that makes sense. I just... I saw him not that long ago, and I didn't have any idea." 

"Well, no," Aquila said, "we're not ready for that. But he is, I swear." 

"I don't understand," Timmy said, his voice helpless and small. "He's..." 

Rashel broke in, before they could argue any more, before he could get any more upset. "Hey, we can all ask questions later, yeah? Once we're there. Right now, you just woke up, so... do you want to watch cartoons, or something? Do you still like them?" 

His head came up, staring at her like he wasn't sure if he wanted to bite her or hug her tighter, some of the wild back in his face. "...I don't know. We didn't have reception, and Hunter didn't like them." 

"I don't care what he didn't like. If you don't like them, we'll find something else, but we can watch TV for a while, okay?" 

"Okay." 

_You're so good with him,_ Quinn murmured into her mind, his mental voice rippling with love and admiration, adoration. 

She didn't think she was doing anything special, and she snorted back at him. _Just trying to give him something to pay attention to._

 _You don't know how special you are,_ Quinn replied as she settled onto the bed, and he leaned to hand her the remote. She flipped through the channels until she found one of the cartoon networks to watch. Aquila got up quietly and left with a wave -- of the wrist that wasn't bleeding anymore, had healed completely over. It didn't even look like it was going to scar. 

Shapeshifters.

She'd better get used to them, though, if she was going to be living in the Night World, even just the Circle Daybreak part of it. 

+++

It took two more days before she and Quinn and Timmy and Nyala made it to Las Vegas, and Rashel was almost certain that she was going to bake into a crisp when she stepped down off the private plane -- a _private jet_ for them? Really? -- into the dry night air. She'd had time to go back to where she'd hidden her weapons, her black silk clothing, and the few things she really wanted, and they were all in the bag over her shoulder. The four of them were the last ones out of Boston, and for the last day the news had been full of nothing but tearful reunions between the girls who'd chosen to forget and their parents. Well, that and chatter about how the Boston Police were launching an investigation into the Crypt, but what Quinn had done for the girls seemed to be holding. The furor of news hadn't had anything except a lot of confusion about that the last thing any of the girls remembered was heading to one of their favorite clubs, and a lot of speculation about how that could possibly be. Quinn had winced at that, but he hadn't said a word. And if the Crypt really was owned by Night People... well, they were good at getting away from normal attention. 

Timmy kept a tight hold of her hand as they walked across the asphalt, and Nyala was walking on his other side, as far away from Quinn as she could get. As she'd said, Quinn might have saved her, but that didn't mean she had to like him. 

A girl werewolf was standing beside a long black sedan (at least it wasn't a limousine) a little ways away from the jet, and she lifted one hand in a wave. "Hi," she said cheerfully, her voice a little bit Spanish-accented, to go with her darker skin and the fall of black hair, "I'm Lupe Acevedo. Nice to meet you. You're Quinn, right, and... Rashel and Nyala? And... you're Timmy, right? I remember you from some of the solstice parties." 

"Yeah," Rashel nodded, though really, who else could they be? Getting off that jet, at this hour, and expecting to be met? Timmy just nodded at her, so Rashel went on. "Thanks for coming to get us." 

"No problem! Boss is looking forward to meeting you all, so c'mon!" she swung the doors open, and Rashel got into the back with Timmy and Nyala, while Quinn slipped into the front passenger seat. 

_Looking forward to --_ her question to Quinn trailed off, not sure if she was more confused or worried. They'd brought him a lot of trouble, after all, between having to build identities for the girls that wanted to become Circle Daybreak, Nyala's trauma, and who Timmy's maker was...

 _I don't know,_ he answered, sounding as confused as she felt. _I guess we'll find out soon?_

 _I guess_. 

Lupe talked to them as they drove out of the airport and into the city, relating bits and pieces of history she knew, telling them about places they passed. She was... so friendly, for a werewolf. Rashel wasn't a bit sure what to do with that. But Aquila and Hayden had been friendly, too, and she didn't think it was just because of Fayth. 

Timmy joined in helping Lupe talk about the city -- when he wasn't asking her questions about things she knew that he didn't -- and Rashel appreciated the easy way Lupe answered him. Sometimes it was like talking she was talking to another teenager, if one that was really short, and other times he really seemed like the four-year-old his body was. Impatient and demanding and... well, four, and she dealt with that, too. 

Rashel gasped as they turned onto a private driveway and looked towards a spectacular house. The driveway was lined with palms, and the house -- no, that wasn't a house, it was a mansion. She couldn't make herself call it a house. It was shining white from the outside, and sprawled across more real estate than made any sense... especially when there was no fence around it. How did you secure a property like this, with access from every possible direction, and inside a major city? Spells, maybe? Were there warding spells? 

Everywhere she looked, from stained-glass panels over the windows to the carved reliefs, the black rose was present, nearly proclaiming that this was a Night Person's home, almost shouting 'Here I am!' That took incredible brass. 

Lupe pulled the sedan up in front of the main doors of the mansion, and a young man walked out of them. He stopped on the broad porch, waiting, while Lupe bounced out to open the door on her side for Nyala. Quinn got her door as soon as he could, letting her step out. Timmy followed her, and Lupe led the way up towards the doors. Rashel studied the young man on the porch. Blond, tall, beautiful as any Night Person, and -- 

\-- so agonizingly sad. Who was this? 

"Hey Boss!" that was from Lupe, and Rashel looked at the tall young-looking man again. Was this... was he really -- 

_That's Thierry,_ Quinn told her across their link, even as Timmy said a -- mostly cheerful, even, bright -- "Hello, Thierry. It's good to see you again." 

"Timothy, isn't it? Welcome back." He -- Thierry, a Lord of the Night World, a member of the Night World Council -- smiled, but it didn't make it past the pain in his eyes. 

There was focus in that gaze, interest, but most of what she saw in his eyes was a wrenching, gripping loneliness and pain. Was that because he was so old? Or was there some other reason that the Eldest of the made-vampires (short of Maya, but if Maya was still alive, Rashel had never heard. All the legends Rashel knew only mentioned Thierry still roaming the earth) looked as though some horrific pain had a hold on him that nothing could ease? 

His gaze moved to her, to where she was standing almost shoulder to shoulder with Quinn, then past her, and he dipped his head and shoulders in a slight bow. "And Quinn. You... I have to admit, I barely believed my ears when I heard you were coming to us."

Quinn shifted his weight, his jaw lifting sharply for a moment, and his hand slid along the base of her spine for a moment, his fingers on her hip drawing her closer. "This is my soulmate, Rashel Jordan."

'Soulmate', she saw Thierry mouth, while his eyes lost everything but the agony. Only for a moment, two, and then he almost shook himself back into focus. But those moments -- no, she wasn't going to think about that. Not while she was standing in front of the eldest male vampire. "Well," Thierry said, his voice soft, "a soulmate does tend to change one's outlook. Welcome to my home, Rashel Jordan, and welcome to Circle Daybreak." 

"Thank you," she said, barely managing to get the words out around her surprise and pleasure, "though -- did Fayth tell you? Who I -- was?" 

"The Cat, you mean? Yes. She did mention." 

Lupe spun around, her eyes flashing with a mix of fear and protective focus, and she moved sideways, putting herself between Rashel and Thierry. He lifted a hand, resting his fingers on the werewolf's shoulder, squeezing gently. "Easy, Lupe. It's all right." 

"But Boss -- " 

"No, Lupe. She is Quinn's soulmate," hesitation on the word, only a moment's, but Rashel was used to evaluating the world in fractions of a second, and she saw it, "so I cannot believe that she would cause him harm." 

Rashel felt her head shake before she knew it, and her right hand dropped to cover Quinn's fingertips on her hip. Hurting Quinn, or getting him hurt, would be like ripping her own heart out. Worse, because Quinn had all of that impossible, unfathomable faith in her. She knew herself too well to believe his faith in her as much as he did -- but she was pretty sure he would say the same about her. "I won't," she agreed with the ancient vampire Lord in front of her, "not if I can avoid it." 

"Then all is well," he replied, grave, and then his gaze swung to Nyala. "So you must be Nyala. Welcome. Please, all of you, come inside. We can at least be comfortable while we talk. You must have questions." 

He stepped back through the double doors, and Lupe watched her warily for another moment before she trailed inside at Thierry's heel.

Until Quinn, she'd never seen a vampire that was worth anyone's loyalty. Not the kind of child-murdering scum she tended to hunt. And Hunter Redfern certainly hadn't deserved Quinn's, or his own daughters'. But Thierry Descouedres... might be worthy. 

+++ 

Well before the time they were done talking, that 'might' had changed to 'was' in Rashel's mind. He might be richer than all of the boy bands combined, might be older than any civilization or language on the planet, but he didn't let that tell him he was better than anyone else. He sat with them like he was just another guy, and he started by listening to their questions, by doing his best to explain to them what he saw as the future for Circle Daybreak. It was more optimistic than anything she would've dreamed of. 

When they'd started talking about those plans, Timmy had coughed, pulling Thierry's attention, and after a few moments of telepathic conversation, he'd offered a hand to Nyala and an 'I'll show her around' to Thierry. It was transparent, but it took the two of them away from the parts of the discussion Nyala was going to have a terrible time with. She was a little better, after setting fire to the enclave house and Quinn rescuing her, but she still hated most vampires passionately. Rashel didn't, and didn't want to encourage Nyala's hunting instincts by arguing in front of her, but there were some facts of life Rashel thought Thierry ("Oh, please don't use titles, just my name is fine") might be missing. 

"You know that some of your kind are just plain evil, right?" she asked, unable to contain herself past the point when she knew Nyala couldn't hear her anymore. But his naivety was almost more than she could stand. 

He stared at her, and so did Quinn. "Evil is -- " 

"Look, since I _started_ hunting I've mostly gone after rogues," Rashel said, only barely able to believe that she was interrupting this particular vampire, "the kind that keep trophies of the little children they've stolen from their families and murde --" 

" **What?!** " 

Thierry's voice was a ringing snarl of fury as he cut across her words, and Rashel went very still. Part of her wanted to move, to open up space between her and Quinn in case he sprang, in case his self-control snapped... but he was too old, surely too powerful. If she provoked him more, right now... 

_Thierry doesn't kill,_ Quinn said into her mind -- or at least, she heard him, though she wasn't certain he'd meant her to. It sounded almost like he was talking to himself, reassuring himself, more than meaning to share it with her. _Not his meals, not others of us._

 _Saint Thierry,_ she murmured back, still watching the flare of fury in him, his eyes shining back at her and his fangs dropped enough to dent his lower lip. Carefully, she answered him. "The vampires I hunt -- hunted -- were normally the ones that killed children." 

"Children," he murmured, his voice sickened as his eyes started to fade back into that sadness. Or else they were blank with memory. Whichever it was, it was better than that terrifying rage. When he spoke again, his voice was barely more than a whisper. "Killing children for power, immortality.... what have you done, Maya?" 

"Thierry?" that was Quinn, either helping to distract him from his current state or just because he was concerned, "are you... all right?" 

"No." 

Rashel had to give the man points for honesty, at least. Thierry looked away for a long few moments, his chest rising and falling as his hands flexed on his thighs, and when he looked back, his eyes were only sad again, not wild with rage. "I am sorry that I yelled at you, Rashel," he said, and he sounded sincere. "It's just... depraved." 

She didn't believe that was all of it, not for a second, but they had only just met. She wouldn't give up her secrets and what made her that angry to someone she didn't know, either. So since she agreed with him anyway, she nodded. "It is. But that's my point. I know the Night World Council exists... but speaking as a hunter, the Council does a really terrible job of policing its problems without skirting very, very close to exposing you -- us -- to Day World law."

"And it's only going to get worse," Quinn said, his voice very dark, "now that Hunter Redfern has shown his real colors." 

"I'm starting to feel like an echo of myself," Thierry said, his voice so wry and amused that Rashel felt the corners of her mouth twitch into a smile as he went, "but _what_?" 

Quinn looked at her, as puzzled as she felt, and it took them a moment to realize. They hadn't told Fayth, or Daphne. And Nyala wouldn't know him by sight, Rashel certainly hadn't. If she only had... 

Quinn turned back to Thierry and started to explain. Some of this she hadn't heard, like the call from Lily, her half-gleeful commentary about the job he knew was breaking Night World law, but hadn't cared enough to protest. Like the careful way they had gone searching for the right site, the right city to hunt in. Like the way the Crypt had been the perfect place to hunt, as soon as they'd found it. Like the witch they'd gotten the drugs to keep the prey quiet from.

Rashel laid a hand on his arm to quiet him and broke in then, explaining -- a little -- about the Lancers, what they'd heard, the new girl in town with news and a plan. Without having to discuss it with Quinn, she decided to skim over their first meeting, skipping quickly ahead to seeing Daphne escaping and doing what she could to help her. 

Then Quinn squeezed her hand gently and took back over. He left out everything but the moment of realization that she was his soulmate, not mentioning those long minutes or hours or seconds where all there had been in the entire universe was the two of them. No, he focused on who had been there when he'd gone to try and send them away, and the moment when a voice from behind them had said 'Do I get a vote?' 

Thierry's jaw ground at that, his eyes flickering with anger for a moment, but he nodded for Quinn to go on. He did, telling about her challenging Hunter (his voice was soft with something like awe, and Rashel wanted to smother him with one of the decorative pillows just out of her reach) and then the sudden voice from Timmy. His argument with Hunter over her, Hunter's commentary on the soulmate principle being a disease, and then how Nyala had suddenly been there. Fire all laid behind her and in her hands, gasoline soaking into the wooden frame of the house like water into dirt, and how that had saved them. 

By the time Quinn was done talking, Thierry's mouth was a single, tight line. "...I've counted on him for entire _lifetimes_ ," he half-said, half-growled. "Depended on him to hold the Council together -- and _this_ is what he's been planning?" 

"So have I, si -- Thierry," Quinn said. "Believe me, I _know_ how you feel."

"Thank you, Quinn, but that doesn't help much," Thierry answered, letting out a long, long sigh. "You're not the one that argued for him to have the Council seat.

"And I can't even call him out for it. Not without risking both of you -- which I'm not willing to do," he added, before either of them could say it would be worth the risk. "You've found each other, I'm not going to risk you to the Council." 

There was all the strength of a steel girder in his voice, and Rashel decided it wasn't worth arguing. Quinn made the same decision, which startled her a little bit. She waited, long enough to let him see that she wasn't going to argue with him, and then she asked, "Thierry? Is there any way you know of to help Timmy? Sometimes he's just fine, and others..."

"His mind is still under-developed, and he reacts like it," Thierry finished the sentence for her. "Honestly, Rashel, I don't know. No-one, as far as I know, has ever tried to... age up, I guess you'd say, a vampire. Because most of us are turned in our late teens, and the body can't _be_ Changed after about twenty. So, there's never been much reason. I have a few friendly witches with some real power, I'll see what they say." 

"But before we got distracted, you were angling at something, Rashel." 

"Yeah, I was," she agreed. "Since the Council is, mmm, not gonna be any help, if you're going to ever co-exist with humans _not_ in total secrecy, you're going to have to be able to show that you -- we? -- can and do police the...bad eggs. Especially if there are going to be more humans with ties to vampires or witches or shapeshifters. Those are probably going to be some very scared kids, if there's not someone that will _do_ something about the bad stuff here." 

He looked at her for a long moment, thoughts churning behind his eyes. "I don't know, Rashel. Circle Daybreak has always been about harmony and peace -- " 

"Would peace have saved the girls? If Daphne and I hadn't been there, would you have ever known what happened to Fayth? Or would they just all be dead now?"

He flinched, and for a moment all he said was, "I -- " 

She counted that as a victory. "Look," she said, trying to be gentle, now that she'd gotten her point across, "I'm not saying you all need to be wiped out. Not even most of you, not after meeting Quinn, and you, and hearing about some of the others. But there are some terrible people in the Night World, and you need what Quinn and I can do, what we _will_ do, as much as you need optimism like Fayth and Daphne's." 

He blew out a long, slow breath. "After what you've told me, I can't say you're wrong. I just want to. What do you want, or need, from me?" 

"You're the head of Circle Daybreak. You're the Elder. If _we're_ not going to be counted renegades, we need... your blessing, I guess you'd say. Or your leave, at least, to be your fighting arm." 

"Lupe and some of the others might say that they're already my fighting arm -- including one young woman that reminds me a lot of you -- but you're right. I don't have anyone with Quinn's experience in this, or your obvious talent. And I can't argue that we're going to need it, if some of the lamia families are thinking about trying to take the Day World over. One condition," he said, and she cocked her head, listening. 

"What's that?" Quinn asked, the cock of his head almost mirroring hers. 

"You have to catch them in the act of murder of an adult, or of feeding on children. Nothing preemptive, and unless you have proof positive that a death is their fault, no hunting them down afterwards. Everyone has a right to defend themselves, or to defend someone else. But it has to be defense. It has to." 

Damn it. 

How was someone this old this damn naive? But... she _hated_ ambushing someone, striking without warning, no matter that it was the best idea when dealing with someone faster and stronger and tougher than you. And it was a rule Sensei would have approved of. 

"All right," Quinn answered, and she nodded, agreeing. "That's more than fair. I'll use whatever tricks I've got, but I prefer an honorable fight, anyway."

"I'm glad to hear it. We do have a joining-ritual for the circle, but it can't be done until the next full moon, so I'll just say in advance, 'Welcome to Circle Daybreak'." His eyes were a little warmer, now. "And I'm glad to have you both. I was planning on trying to gather up some of the other soulmate pairs I know of for the solstice, maybe I'll move that up so that they're here to meet you."

"It's good to be here, and I think I'd love that," Rashel answered, Quinn's hand tightening on hers, and the only surprising thing was how much she meant it, how much she could feel that he agreed with her. They'd known Circle Daybreak was the only place they could go, but she hadn't expected to want to be there. But now, sitting here with Thierry, with Quinn's hand in hers... it just felt right, right in a way she hadn't felt since she was a little girl.

+++


End file.
